


Interrogation Room

by ms4815162342



Category: SPN, Supernatural
Genre: M/M, Wincest - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-29
Updated: 2013-01-29
Packaged: 2017-11-27 09:56:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,068
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/660654
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ms4815162342/pseuds/ms4815162342
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A different take on a scene from Slash Fiction.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Interrogation Room

Through unforeseen circumstances, Sam found himself handcuffed to a table in an Iowa police station. When the officers left him in the interrogation room to put Dean in a holding cell, Sam immediately tried to get the lock pick that was hidden in his left jacket pocket. He twisted the lower half of his body around and managed to catch the material of it. Clawing his fingers up and into the pocket, he finally reached the lock pick and pulled it out. He glanced at his reflection in the 1-way mirror and let out a dark chuckle. If he didn’t know any better, he would have arrested himself too. He looked exactly like that murdering psychopath the cops were after.  
He worked the tool around in his hand so that the tip would be able to slide into the lock, but it was harder than it should have been. The way the handcuffs were done left him little wiggle room to move his fingers. He then noticed that the keyhole was actually on the other side of the bracelets pointing toward the floor.  
“Great,” he murmured, trying to flip the pick around.  
That was when the door opened.  
Sam jerked his head up, clutching the pick in his hand so maybe the officer wouldn’t see it. But it wasn’t a cop.  
“Dean,” Sam breathed. “Thank God, help me with these ‘cuffs.”  
Dean checked behind him before he gently shut the door, and then turned to face Sam again. There was a bit of a smirk working its way across his face as he sauntered up to the table, looking directly into Sam’s eyes.  
“Oh, I’m not your brother,” he said, and Sam’s face snapped from relief to full-on bitch mode.   
“Leviathan,” he growled.  
The shapeshifter’s smirk grew larger. “I’ve got his memories though; all of his thoughts,” he went on, reaching down to Sam’s bound hands and quickly snatching the lock pick. He examined it for a moment before tossing it into a corner of the room.  
“What do you want?” Sam asked as he glared at the monster.  
“Well, since I’m practically Dean,” the leviathan said, circling around so that he was standing directly behind Sam, “I want what Dean wants.”  
Sam tried to crane his neck to keep the creature in sight, but when he did, the leviathan grabbed a handful of his hair and pulled his head to the right. Sam grunted in pain, but Dean didn’t seem to care. He bent his own head forward to press his lips against his little brother’s exposed neck. Sam’s heart stopped, and then picked up tenfold.  
“Wh--?” he managed to get out before the leviathan gave his hair another tug to cut him off.  
“Shhh,” Dean hissed, letting his tongue trace patterns in the side of Sam’s neck. “Ooh, you are delicious,” he commented. “I can see why Dean’s always wanted to try this.”  
“Dean’s my brother!” Sam shouted, but he couldn’t deny that his heart leapt when the leviathan said that. Sam had known he loved Dean since he was 16 years old, but he also knew that it was completely sick and wrong. And now here he was, getting dark hickeys sucked into his neck by a creature who looked so much like his older brother.  
“It doesn’t seem to bother him. In fact,” Dean said, standing up straight again, “that’s what makes him love you more. You’re his brother. He’s always loved you in some way since you were born. But when you hit puberty,” he chuckled, “this guy had to jerk off daily.”  
Sam froze, head still twisted at an uncomfortable angle. It couldn’t be true, right? Maybe this guy’s partner had told him Sam’s dirty little secret when it absorbed all of Sam’s memories.  
Before he had time to think it all through, Dean pulled him up and out of his chair before slamming him face-first onto the table. Sam’s wrists were straining at the handcuffs still hooked around a bar under the tabletop, and his hands were being crushed by his own groin. The right side of his face was getting colder as the metal table absorbed his body heat. He could still barely make out Dean’s form in his peripherals.   
“God, he’s waited a long time for this,” his brother’s double groaned, wetting his lips with the tip of his tongue. He ran a hand from Sam’s back up into his hair, then back down again before stopping just above his beltline. He made a sound of disapproval. “This won’t work at all,” he said before he kicked Sam’s legs apart. Sam moved, trying to get his legs back together again, but the leviathan stuck his own between them. He lay across the length of Sam’s back so that his mouth was right against Sam’s left ear. “Don’t fight it, Sam. Don’t pretend that you don’t want this just as badly as he does,” he crooned, darting his tongue out to dip into Sam’s ear. “Enjoy it like I know you want to.”  
Sam couldn’t help the moan that came out of his mouth, but immediately shut his lips to try and contain it. It was too late. He saw the smirk was back on the leviathan’s face.  
While he was still pressed against Sam’s back, Dean reached below him and started to unbuckle his belt; once that was done, he popped the button of Sam’s jeans open and ran the zipper down.  
Sam was definitely breathing heavily now, his face pushed harshly to the tabletop, but he could tell that the leviathan also seemed out of breath.   
Dean started to tug Sam’s pants down, and Sam automatically lifted his hips a bit off the table to make it easier. This made the leviathan growl with pleasure, and Sam shivered as he pulled his jeans and underwear down to the tops of his knees.  
“You wanna do the honors, or should I?” Dean asked, holding out his first two fingers close to Sam’s mouth. Sam shuddered again, closing his eyes, and heard the leviathan chuckle. He opened his eyes to see Dean staring down at him in lust while he sucked on the same two fingers he had just offered Sam. Then he saw Dean’s hand lower out of sight and felt one of those slick fingers pressing against his hole. Sam shut his eyes again, focusing on the feel of Dean’s finger slowly sliding into him. He hadn’t done this in a while, and God was it uncomfortable, but before he knew it, Dean was working in his second finger. Sam’s mouth opened as he let out a heavy breath that was full of want, and Dean pushed both his fingers up to the knuckle. Sam moaned again, this time not caring that he sounded like a slut. Dean was moving his fingers in and out, opening Sam up, and Sam could feel his own dick swelling with each thrust the leviathan made. By the time Sam could successfully take three fingers, he was groaning like a porn star pressed against that table.  
When Dean removed his fingers, Sam jerked his eyes open and wiggled his ass back, trying to regain the friction. He saw that the leviathan was no longer smirking or laughing, just working intently on getting his own pants undone. Sam had one glimpse of Dean’s fully erected cock before he was lining it up against Sam’s entrance and it was out of his range of vision.  
The leviathan looked straight into his eyes. “Ready, Sammy?”  
“Dean, please!” Sam moaned.  
\---------------------------------  
The officer locked Dean in one of the cells at the back of the police station. After he unsuccessfully tried to convince the cop that they had the wrong guys, he shook his head as the old man left.  
“This is stupid,” he murmured, walking around the cage and taking in his new surroundings.   
He barely had time to register that the small cell contained only one bed before the officer came rushing back in the room. The man looked at him with huge eyes, opening and closing his mouth, but not saying anything.  
“What? What is it?” Dean prompted. “Did you see them?” he asked with sudden clarity.  
The man nodded, and Dean instructed him to open the cell. After he did, Dean told him to show him where they kept their cleaning supplies. The two found a couple of bottles of borax and cautiously walked out into the main room of the station.   
Sam ran across Dean’s path, stopping and staring at him.  
“Sammy?” Dean asked, but when he saw that stare turn into a glare, “Not Sammy.” He doused the leviathan in borax and was mesmerized by the way the creature’s skin seemed to sizzle off. While it was distracted, Dean raised an axe and cleanly severed its head from the rest of its body. It wasn’t really Sam, he told himself.   
“Where’d you put my brother?” he demanded, walking up to the old police officer.  
“Interrogation 2,” the man got out, staring at the still smoking body.  
Dean rushed across the room and found the correct door. He was about to kick it down before he thought to try the handle. Sure enough, it was unlocked.   
He found himself in a dark room with a TV mounted on the wall. He briefly recognized that porn was playing before scanning the room for Sam. His brain was trying to process the fact that this room didn’t look like a place for interrogation, but for observation, when he realized what the “TV” actually was: a 1-way mirror. And that was Sam spread out on the table, getting finger fucked by some guy. Dean couldn’t move. He couldn’t rip his eyes away from the way Sam’s mouth was opened in an almost perfect circle, breathing so harshly he was fogging up the metal table. And the noises he was making, God. Dean felt his own dick jump in interest.  
He probably would have stood there forever if his daze hadn’t been penetrated by the words, “Dean, please!”  
Dean was shocked. How did Sam know he was there? But then he finally took a good look at the guy standing behind Sam who was now shoving his dick into his baby brother’s ass. Over Sam’s moans of pleasure, Dean heard a ringing in his ears. It was his doppelganger.  
His leviathan twin had Sam spread across the table, fucking into him with absolute bliss across his face.  
“Fuck, Sammy,” he heard the leviathan say, which broke his trance once and for all. Axe and borax still in his hand, he busted through the door leading into the interrogation room to see shock covering both the men’s faces. The leviathan pulled out of Sam and stalked toward Dean, but Dean had the element of surprise: he splashed some borax on the creature, blinding him, then in one swift motion, decapitated the monster once and for all.  
He stared down at what appeared to be his own dead body, then slowly looked up at Sam, who still had his legs spread with his ass in the air.  
\------------------------------  
“Dean…” Sam started to say, blood rushing into his face and turning him rosy.  
His older brother simply stood there, axe hanging loosely in his hand, and stared straight into Sam’s eyes. Sam shuffled his legs, trying to bring them closer together before lowering himself into the cold metal chair. It was difficult, and he was sore, but he couldn’t stay like that while Dean was standing there, shell-shocked.  
Sam thought his head would explode, his face was so hot, and now tears were starting to form at the corner of his eyes. “Uh,” he started. He swallowed, trying to look anywhere but at Dean, who he knew was still staring at him. He caught sight of his wrists, swollen and red from straining against the handcuffs. “Listen, Dean,” he tried again, looking up at Dean, but his brother cut him off.   
Dean rushed forward, slinging the axe to the ground with a loud clatter, and grabbed Sam’s face with both of his hands. He bent forward, pushing his tongue into Sam’s mouth and kissing him passionately. He pulled back and rested his forehead against Sam’s.  
“If I had known,” he said.  
Sam’s breath hitched. “I—“  
“You don’t have to say anything, Sammy,” Dean said, still holding onto him. “Me too.”


End file.
